Coming Home
by Living in a fantasy
Summary: He felt an astonishing rush of relief and helplessness. He was finally out of the house, but he had nowhere to go and no family to help him. Despite the row they've had due to the Whomping Willow incident, Sirius can think of only one person to turn to.


AN: I know, it's not Death Note. I'm sorry guys, but this is Harry Potter's last big thing, and I'm pretty much dedicated to it. This idea isn't a new one; a lot of people have written about Sirius leaving home. However, despite how much I love it, I realized I've never really written one (not including the horrible version I wrote in one of my first stories ever). So, I decided in honor of the final movie release, I've gone back to my roots to write a Marauder fic. So to my fellow Harry Potter fans, savor this final movie. Enjoy that last midnight show, or that last opening day. Soak up how it feels to be surrounded by all those fans. Dress up, go crazy. This series has been with me for a decade, and no series will ever shape my life the way this magical series has, and nothing can ever compare to it. In the words of JKR "Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home."

Enjoy. Always keep the magic alive. Harry Potter will never be gone, as long as those as those of us who remain stay loyal to him.

/…/…/…/

Sirius lay across his bed, stretched on his back, eyes roaming the ceiling lazily. He counted three spiders in separate corners of his room and took slight mirth in the fact that the house wasn't perfect. It wasn't much, but for Walburga Black it could be seen as a failure to make sure the house was in order. Granted, Sirius supposed people might notice the way he'd chosen to decorate his walls before noting several miniscule spiders. After all, until he came along, there had never been a Black sorted into Gryffindor.

Sirius turned morose eyes towards the picture he'd stuck to the wall. It had been taken last year, a photo of him and his former friends. It once had been a picture of the four of them doing ridiculous poses and laughing, arms thrown over each other in such a tangle that he couldn't distinguish whose was whose. Now though, it showed Sirius standing at the edge of the frame, Remus and Peter angled away and talking, while James listened and occasionally snuck a glance at the lone Marauder. Sirius supposed he should take it as a positive sign that James might be forgiving him soon.

But the way Sirius saw it, he had messed up big time. It wasn't as if he didn't regret telling Snape about the whomping willow; he really did. He hadn't been thinking and he knew it wasn't an excuse, that they had a reason to be mad at him. That didn't stop the jab of hurt he felt when a nasty look was thrown his way, or the longing he felt while watching them sit together, or the sting of betrayal when James had accused him of not being so different from his family after all.

He knew James didn't mean it, knew James was caught up in the moment just like he had been, but it still hurt.

"SIRIUS!" his mother's shrieking voice rang through the room. It made the other three Marauders in the picture jump, while Sirius crossed his arms and sulked. The real Sirius merely rolled his eyes and didn't answer. He didn't have the energy to deal with his mother. Didn't have the energy for much of anything really.

The days continued like that, Sirius growing more frustrated daily. Regulas had told her of him falling out with the other Marauders, and his mother delighted in it, bringing up every chance she had, as if this would sway his opinions on muggleborns.

One night she took it too far, raving about some wizard calling himself Voldemort who was bent on ridding the world of muggleborns. "If you followed him your reputation would be back. Now that you don't have those half-bloods and blood traitors holding you back, you can do anything."

"Merlin mother, just because we're having a row doesn't mean I believe any of your pureblood mania!"

Her expression turned dangerous. "I will not have you stand in front of me and shame this family with such talk. You had your little rebellion phase, now it is time to grow up and take responsibility! I will not be made a fool of."

"You're just an old hag that can't handle the fact that she failed at something!" Sirius had always had a problem speaking without thinking, and the words didn't even register in his head before his mother's hand raised and backhanded him sharply, her rings leaving painful scrapes in their wake. Sirius slowly turned his head back towards her, eyes marginally wider. She had never been a pleasant woman and wasn't one to disguise insults or shy away from verbal abuse, but she very rarely actually struck him. He could feel the blood, sticky and warm, zigzagging slowly down his face.

Her smirk was so superior, as if she expected him to lower his head in shame and obey her. Sirius felt a spike of rage go through him. He wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing, and he wasn't going to shrink back and listen to her nonsense just because she'd smacked him. "Apparently you can't handle the truth very well either." He was expecting the second strike, but that didn't make it hurt any less. He stumbled sidewise slightly from the force of the hit. A drop of red dripped from his face and landed with a soft splatter on the wood floor, the silence in the room absolutely deafening. His glare hardened with determination. "I'm done," he announced abruptly, turning his back on his mother and striding to his trunk. He threw it open and began tossing things haphazardly into it, not bothering to fold or organize.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Leaving," he growled. He was sick of dealing with her. He was sick of her, his cold father, his brainwashed brother and that disgusting house elf. He was done. He wasn't eleven anymore, he wasn't going to skulk around the house, worrying that his mommy was going to hit him. No.

"You're what?" her voice was shrill and made him wince, but he kept packing. He gazed around the room and seeing nothing (since he hadn't bothered much with unpacking to begin with) closed the trunk with a loud snap. He grabbed his trunk and dragged it towards the door, where his mother was still standing.

"I'm leaving," he repeated. She didn't move, but her wand hand gave a small twitch. He eyed her warily and took another step forwards, but she stayed rooted to the spot. "Let me through," he said.

This seemed to snap her out of her shocked daze, because instantly her scowl returned, ugly lines rippling across her forehead. "You're not going anywhere," she stated dangerously.

That Gryffindor bravery was doing him good now, because his mother was seething. "I am."

"I will not let you run out on this family! We always knew you were different, but once you were sorted into Gryffindor…do you have any idea the shame you brought to this family? The damage control we had to implement to stop our good name from further shame? And then you started associating with blood traitors and mudbloods-"

"Don't, mother, just don't. I don't wanna hear it." When she showed no signs of moving Sirius tried to go around her but in a flash a wand was swiping through the air and he was thrown backwards into the opposite wall. He let out a pained grunt and landed in a heap on the floor. He forced himself to his knees, eyes traveling up to his mother's face.

Her wand was still pointed steadily at him, unwavering. Sirius saw no sympathy in those eyes, and finally a jolt of fear ran through him. If she was willing to use magic like that, he had to get out now, before she tried something serious.

He rose to his feet unsteadily, leaning against the wall, eyes calculating. Then, he leapt towards the doorway, ducking around his mother's arms and making a break for the staircase. A curse hit the wall beside his head and he hurled himself down the stairs. He felt the hair rising on the back of his neck as another curse approached and jumped, landing halfway down the stairs. His foot twisted painfully beneath him and went out. He tumbled down the stairs and landed in a tangled mess at the bottom.

He groaned softly, closing his eyes against the pounding in his head. The sharp footfalls of his mother approached slowly down the stairs. He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly to dispel the blurriness. He forced himself to his feet and nearly fell at the sharp pain that shot through his ankle. His mother came to a stop in front of him, sneering, wand still raised. Sirius shakily pulled out his own and subconsciously took a step back. He couldn't do magic outside of school and even if he could, she had years of experience over him. "What are you going to do?" she asked, smirking when he said nothing, but soon her face grew serious. "You want to go?" she asked mockingly. "Fine. Either you can stay here and behave the way we raised you and stop shaming this family, or you can leave now, and wander the streets without a home, family, or friends. Wallow in the gutter like the filth you are."

His jaw clenched. He knew he had nowhere to go, but the thought of staying here with his mother, who was willing to use magic against him, his unsympathetic father, whose study door had remained firmly closed all night through the yelling, or his "perfect" brother who was probably sneaking around listening, made him feel sick. Right now, he'd rather be anywhere than Grimmuald Place. "I'm going."

She raised her wand and for a moment he thought she was going to curse him, but instead his trunk came flying down the stairs. It crashed sidewise on the floor and fell open, the contents spilling across the room. "Then go. You are officially disowned from this family. Your name will be burned off the family tree and you are never to set foot in this house again, are we clear?"

"Crystal." Their eyes locked for a moment then she turned and stalked back up the stairs. Sirius stared after her for a moment then hastily stuffed everything back into his trunk. He took one last look around the house, the place he had been his whole life.

He wouldn't miss it.

The heavy door creaked ominously as he forced it open, limping and dragging his trunk behind him. It fell shut loudly, the sound echoing through the empty streets. The dim streetlights made the streets sparkle prettily, the steady rain shimmering like glitter in the air. Sirius shivered slightly in the breeze and dragged his trunk towards the street. It was awkward trying to carry it, since every time he put weight on his right ankle it tried to buckle under him. He must have twisted it really badly on the staircase. He was practically panting when he stopped his awkward gait to stand on the curb. He felt an astonishing rush of relief and helplessness. He was finally out of the house, away from those lunatics he was forced to call family. But at the same time, he had nowhere to go, little money, and no family to turn to. He was essentially homeless. He considered searching out shelter for the night, but the rain was picking up, the cold liquid seeping into his clothes and soaking into his skin. The low moan of thunder filled the air and he raised his wand. Moments later, the Knight Bus appeared, a loud screeching filling the streets as it lunged to a stop and the doors opened. Immediately the man began reciting a pre-prepared greeting in a monotone drawl.

Sirius wasn't really listening to the guy, brushing past him to collapse on the first bed he saw. He was grateful that the man pulled his trunk on board for him. "Are you alright?" the bearded man asked, eyes lighting with concern. "Need us to get you to St. Mungos?"

"No." Sirius shook his head, biting his lip when it made everything spin a bit.

"Where to then?"

"The Potter residence," Sirius said without thinking, and before he could take it back they were off, zooming down the streets. He didn't know what he'd do once he got there, but he didn't really know where else there was to go anyway. Hopefully those occasional polite exchanges of information were enough to get James to let him just stay the night.

/…/…/…/

James sighed, bored out of his mind. Normally by now he would have made some kinds of plans with his friends. They would have organized a visit or outing so they could get together again. But after the falling out from the prank, they hadn't talked very much. It wasn't like Sirius didn't deserve the treatment, he'd nearly gotten Snape killed and Remus expelled, but it had torn at the entire group.

First there was Peter who seemed to be on Remus' side most of the time, but wavered. He couldn't seem to decide for sure who he wanted to support. Then there was Remus, who had the biggest reason to be angry. And even though he was, his kind nature allowed guilt to seep through whenever he saw Sirius sitting by himself. He knew what it was like to be alone and betrayed, and he hated to do it to such a good friend, despite the betrayal. James was still furious that Sirius would do something so stupid, but he missed his best friend.

His parents had just headed upstairs to get ready for bed. James flipped listlessly through _Quidditch Through The Ages_, not really in the mood to read but not sure of what else to do. He was debating on just going to his room and starting the homework he'd gotten over break when a heavy knocking came from the door. He stared at the door quizzically. Who would be at his door at eleven at night? Cautiously, he crept forward, somewhat wary. He opened the door and a surge of surprise and anger filled him when he saw Sirius standing there. "What are you doing here?" he asked sharply.

It was only then that he noticed the blood on the boy's cheek, and the awkward way he was holding his weight. An angry, dark bruise was forming at the top of his head. "What in Merlin's name happened to you?" Sirius seemed at a loss for words, opening his mouth and closing it again. If it wasn't Sirius, James would say he almost look ashamed. He glanced into the yard and saw his trunk sitting on the stairs. "Decided now was the perfect time for a visit? I can assure you, it's not."

"I ran away," Sirius forced himself to say.

James wasn't quite sure of what to say so he gazed at the blood again. There were small gashes burrowed into his flesh, and the skin around them was a bright red. He slowly felt the pieces forming together and it made him feel sick. "Did your…did your family do that?"

Sirius averted his eyes and that was enough for James. He may still be angry, but he wasn't about to send him back into the rain when he was still bleeding. He stood aside. "Fine, come in."

"Thank you." His voice was soft and hoarse, so different from the way James was used to hearing it. Sirius bent down to grab his trunk and slowly tried to drag it inside.

"I've got it," James said, moving forwards and pulling it through the door. Sirius limped in and James winced when he got a closer look at him in the light. The dark haired boy was soaked through, eyes sunken with blood barely oozing from the cuts on his face. He shifted and then winced, so James led him into the living room and to the couch, reaching instinctively to catch his arm when Sirius stumbled. The injured boy managed a strained smile and let James guide him to the couch.

Sirius sat down gratefully and James observed him with careful eyes. "What happened?"

He looked so tired. "Just a fight with my mother. She wasn't in the mood to be argued with." He shifted and looked around self-consciously. "I'm getting your couch wet."

"Its fine," James brushed off, an icy cold developing in his stomach. He'd known Sirius hated his family, but he'd never realized it was this bad before. "What did she do to your ankle?"

"I tripped on the stairs, when I was leaving."

"Sirius."

"I did trip. I-" he trailed off at James' stern face and his shoulders dropped. "I was trying to dodge some curse she sent at me and I fell down the stairs."

James frowned. "Are they looking for you?"

Sirius' laugh was cold and mirthless. "They decided I was too much of a shame to the family. Went against them one too many times. They've disowned me."

The bespectacled boy felt a pool of guilt and sympathy swirling in his stomach. "I'm gonna get my mum and have her take a look, she'll probably be able to fix you up okay."

"Thanks," Sirius said, voice soft and honest.

"No problem."

James pounded up the stairs and into his parent's room without knocking. His mum jumped. "Merlin James, knock next time."

"Sirius is here."

"Sirius?" she asked. "I thought you two were having a row?"

"We were. Are. I…" James stumbled over his word in frustration. "He's hurt."

Instantly his mum and dad were on their feet. "Is it serious?" his dad asked, calmly lifting his glasses from the dresser.

"I don't think so. I mean, I don't really know." James rushed downstairs, his parents right behind. His mum muffled a small gasp when she saw Sirius on her couch and his battered form. Sirius looked up, shy for once as James' mum shuffled towards him.

"Hullo, Mrs. Potter."

"I've told you before to call me Kathleen," she muttered distractedly, hand gently turning his face so she had a good view of his face. "Oh honey," she murmured softly. "Where are you hurt?"

He told her as she fussed over him, healing the gashes and checking his ankle. "I can't do anything for the ankle, but I have a potion for concussions. James gets them occasionally when he falls off his broom playing Quidditch."

"Mum!"

Sirius chuckled softly and James crossed his arms. His mum smiled and continued on as if she hadn't been interrupted. "I can probably get someone over from St. Mungos considering the circumstances tonight or tomorrow. If you'd rather wait I can get you a pain potion."

"Tomorrow…if that's okay I mean. I don't want to impose…"

"You're always welcome here."

Sirius' smile said it all.

/…/…/…/

After some warm tea James lent Sirius some clothes and the family turned in for the night. Mrs. Potter leaned down to place a kiss on James' forehead and did the same for Sirius. "I'll see you boys in the morning."

The door clicked shut softly behind her and left the duo in a stifling silence. Sirius shifted on the cot, pausing at the loud creaking it made. He relaxed against the mattress and the room was quiet once more. It was James who spoke first. "We'll set up a guest room for you tomorrow, so you won't have to sleep on that stupid thing."

Sirius sat up, startled. "Wait, tomorrow?"

James rolled over to face him, frowning. "Yeah, where else do you plan to go?"

He shifted on the bed. "I don't know…I figured the Leaky Cauldron, until school started."

James, who had propped himself up on an elbow, snorted and laid back down. "Don't be stupid."

"I didn't think you'd want to have me, after what happened." His voice was quiet and unsure, a far cry from his normal confident self. It was rather unsettling to hear, and in all honesty, the dramatic nature of the visit had drained the anger from his memory.

James remembered now, but the seriousness of his friend's situation seemed so much more important. He knew Sirius regretted what he'd done, had known it the night it happened, but he hadn't let himself really see it. The fact that Sirius turned to him despite everything just reminded him that they were best friends. He had missed him. And friends forgave each other, even for the big things. "I know you regret it," he said finally. "It's not as if you've not tried apologizing before. And I've missed you." James shrugged and looked away. "I can't promise anything about the others though."

"I don't want you to forgive me just because you pity me," Sirius replied bitterly.

"I already said I missed you. You're my best mate, how much sappier to you want me to get, Padfoot?" He shot Sirius a grin, and finally Sirius smiled back.

A comfortable silence filled the room now, but despite the forgiveness, Sirius' mind would not remain silent. Even when they were fighting, his friend took him in and treated him better than his own family. He hated the lot of them, and he hated that it hurt to know how little they cared for him. He was lucky to have someone like James. "Thank you," he said again, voice soft. James hated to hear the gratitude in that voice; no one should be so grateful just because someone was kind. He desperately wished to pay the Black family back for everything they had done to his best friend.

"That's what family is for."

Sirius' head whipped towards James, who had turned to face him. He was smiling. "Family?"

"You deserve better than them. You are so much better than them," James said, voice unnaturally solemn. "And you're like a brother to me, and now that you're living here we might as well make it official."

Sirius finally relaxed, a small smile flickering across his face. "Good to have you back Prongs."

James smile widened and he closed his eyes. "Good to have you here. Now I don't have to watch you mope about when it's almost time to go on break."

After all that had happened, it seemed too easy, to be accepted back like this. But Sirius could always tell when James was being untruthful, so he merely smiled. "Yeah, now I'll actually enjoy going home."

/…/…/…/

AN: I dedicate this to all the friends that I count as close as family, to all the people who rely on their friends the way Sirius does with James, and to all of you, to all HP fans. This fandom has been one of the most amazing things I've experienced, and I have so many good memories around this series. Even though the series is finally coming to a close, the fandom will live on. All of you, keep it alive. Keep writing. Keep drawing. Keep playing Quidditch or playing wrock or going to conventions. Enjoy tonight, the final movie promises to be amazing.


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